


It Still Counts

by mmmmph



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (i think it counts as hurt comfort at least??), (like all my fics), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Gerry Lives As A Ghost After Jon Burns His Page AU, Ghost Gerard Keay, Grumpy Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Hurt/Comfort, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist is Bad at Feelings, Laughter as a coping Mechanism, Protective Gerard Keay, Sad Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, The Magnus Archives Season 4, Vulnerability, far too much emotional sincerity, gerard keay & jonathan "jon" sims friendship, gerry can do a handstand too, however shall they cope, i'm as surprised as the rest of you, it's me after all, jon can do a handstand because it's necessary to the plot, once again nothing happens in this fic except two characters sitting and talking, only a little tho. gerry's good at cheering up. or at least at distracting., pre buried s4, silly games and fun times, yes i know he's a ghost in canon. kind of. but he's even MORE ghost-y in here okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29763528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmmph/pseuds/mmmmph
Summary: "Okay, your turn.""Hmm… truth.""You can't always pick truth, Gerry," complained Jon"Well, what dare could you possibly give me? No one but you can see me, there aren't exactly a vast options of dares for me huh?"Jon glared at him. "…point taken," said.or - when jon burned gerry's page, instead of fading out of existence, he stayed here as a ghost, and only jon can see him.Everything's kinda shit, but at least he still has one friend.
Relationships: Gerard Keay & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 15
Kudos: 69





	It Still Counts

**Author's Note:**

> based on this tumblr post - 
> 
> https://statementends.tumblr.com/post/637043611028144128/au-where-jon-burns-gerrys-page-but-instead-of
> 
> which i didn't stop thinking about for like two months now. 
> 
> tw for jokes about suicide. nothing's big but it's rather tactless.
> 
> this takes place at early season 4, so before the buried.  
> hope you enjoy! :D

"Gerry?"

"Hmm?"

"Are there any others like you?"

"What?" asked Gerry, lifting his eyes from his nails, which he was pretending to paint with the black nail polish he made Jon steal from that one Tesco shop a few nights ago, even though he can't actually use it and god knows Jon has enough stress in his life without needing to add crimes to the list. "Do you mean ghosts?"

"Well, yeah," Jon's eyes were focused on the wall on which he was currently resting his feet, laying with his back on the ground, creating an odd angle that sure looked ridiculous from outside. (Just two years ago, Jon would've cared a whole lot about looking ridiculous in the middle of his office. These days, if anyone even came in and saw him like that, it would be a miracle. He actually kinda wanted that – someone to walk in and make fun of him for his weird position, to laugh in a sudden, surprised way and say he looks like a child. But no, even if someone were to walk in right now, they wouldn't laugh. They might not even remark at all. (Nobody walked in.))

"Why do you ask?" said Gerry.

Jon fixed his eyes on the wall.

Gerry raised one of his eyebrows. "Jon…?" he asked, lingering on the last syllable.

"I was thinking," he blurted out.

"Always a mistake, in your case."

"Ha, ha," answered, more of a reflex than a conscious decision at this point. "No, I was thinking about Tim."

Gerry put down the nail polish and closed the lid. "It's one of _these_ days, I take?"

He blushed. "Oh, shut up. One of _what_ days?"

"The days when you get all guilty and sad and I feel like I should be your suicide watch."

"Gerryyyyyy," whined Jon, throwing the nearest thing he could get without getting up at him (which happened to be a tape recorder). That, of course, did nothing to impress the incorporeal ghost.

"I'm just saying!" he said. "You thinking about Tim is a clear sigh of you not being fun."

Jon glared at him, as best as he could laying on the floor with his feet up like that. "I'm not here to be _fun_ ," he spat (without any venom though). "It's not my job to entertain you."

"Well, it kinda is though, if you think of it."

Jon buried his face in his hands, hiding the sight of a smile he failed to keep out of his voice. "Whatever," he said. "Sorry for slacking off."

"You're forgiven," said sweetly. He approached slowly, taking his seat on the floor next to Jon's head.

"…Are there?" asked Jon again, after a moment of hesitation.

Gerry paused for a moment. "Not that I know of," he said at last. "But hey, what do I know, right?" he tried for lightness, but the joke fell flat.

"I'm sorry," said Jon

Oh dear god it really _was_ one of these days huh?

"Please, not this again," he said. "Jon, we had this conversation at least five times already."

"I know," said Jon "it's just- I-if Gertrud were here… I- I'm not… I don't know how to help you and I can't do anything but entertain you and I'm not even good at _this_ and- I'm-"

"Jon, enough," said Gerry, because contrary to popular belief he had a heart. "You burned my page. You did exactly what I asked of you. There is no blame. Things just suck, it's not anyone's fault. Well, I mean, except my mum obviously. And Leitner." Jon gave a hum of agreement, which made Gerry's heart widen a bit because this guy was funny, "and, well, I guess if you already brought Gertrud up then yes, it's her fault too actually, for dooming me to this escapeless existence."

"Now who needs a suicide watch?" mumbled Jon, effectively making Gerry forget any previous fondness he had to the man.

"I'm just _saying_ ," he said, "that I'm not angry with you, so knack it off alright? And besides, like, as depressing and sad as it probably sound, this is still much better than I hoped for, you know? I thought I was gonna be in the book for the rest of time. This is miles and miles better. Even if you really _were_ a bad company, which you actually aren't if I'm real with you fam-" Jon chocked on air. What? He was the only one allowed to know memes? This man, swear to god. Gerry died in 2015, he wasn't a dinosaur, thank you very much. "-even then, anything that happens to me right now, anything at all, is an upgrade from that book. So yeah, you did me a favor. It went a little less ideal than we thought, but it still made my life a ton's better! So I'm not just saying this to make you feel better, you honest to god have nothing to apologize for."

Jon looked at him, taking in his words, drinking his mercy like a drowning man. "Thanks Gerry," he mumbled. "Y-your company is… um, not bad either. Fyi."

"Ho, oh, oooh," laughed Gerry, face growing pained. "That's enough outta you, I think. Time you shut up for the rest of the day and think about your sins."

 _Wrong_ choice of words, dammit. Jon's face grew much too thoughtful.

"I didn't mean literally," he said, half teasing half sincere.

"Sorry," answered Jon Gerry clutched the bridge of his nose.

"It's okay. I get it. It's _one of these days_. You can be sad and depressed if you want, I guess."

"Thanks Gerry," he whispered, eyes fixed on the wall.

Gerry hummed to himself. "Do you want me to… go? Or stay?" he asked.

What a stupid question. He knew the answer. Jon never once wanted him to leave. Not that Gerry could blame him; he was there when Jon woke up from his coma. He saw the way everyone treated him. And hey, there may have been a lot of things Gerry didn't understand – universities, and sleepovers, and soap operas, and math, and kisses – but he understood loneliness. Maybe better than he ever understood anything else.

So when Jon answered, barely audible, "stay", Gerry didn't need to hear it in order to oblige.

"Okay, your turn."

"Hmm… truth."

"You can't always pick truth, Gerry," complained Jon

"Well, what dare could you possibly give me? No one but you can see me, there aren't exactly a vast options of dares for me huh?"

Jon glared at him. "…point taken," said.

"Good. Now ask me your question. And don't Ask ask, mind you, there's no need for that."

He tilted his head to the side. "Would Asking work on you?"

"Of c-" Gerry started, then paused, face growing confused. "Huh. I guess I'm not sure. Wanna try?"

That was Gerry for you. He didn't want Jon to compel him – unless it was for science, in which case go ahead. Curious things they were, the both of them. Beholding to the bone. Sometimes Jon felt like a kid again, just wanting to fuck around and find out. It was… nice.

" **Tell me something embarrassing you did** ," he said, static rising through his words.

"The first time I wanted to dye my hair black I didn't know how to do it myself, so I went to a barber, but I had no money because I was fifteen and my mum didn't know, so when the barber was done with my hair and waited for me to pay I waited until they had their back to me and then just. Just fucking ran. Like I was on a godamn marathon. Didn't stop until I was home."

"Oh my god, Gerry," said Jon. "It isn't even embarrassing, it's just sad." But he smiled.

"Oh fuck you," said Gerry and pushed his shoulder. His hand passed through but it's the thought that counts. "Here I am, spilling my childhood trauma for you, and all you do is mock me. Unbelievable."

"No, I'm sorry," said Jon, so sincere Gerry almost had to look away. He was always like that. That bastard. "What did your mother do when she saw your hair?"

Gerry shivered at the memory. "The usual," he said. And Jon, bless him, didn't need any more words than this. He took his hand (the thought that counts). For a moment he was silent. And then, because teasing came easier to him than real emotions, he smiled.

"I can't believe I'm sitting here with a criminal," he said grinning.

"Oh, big talk from Mr. Wanted For Murder."

"I was framed!" yelled Jon. "It doesn't count. And how do you even know this anyway? I don't remember telling you about it."

"It was a long half year you were in coma, you know. A guy gets bored. I listened to every tape in here at least three times."

Jon blushed. "Oh. E-every one of them?"

"Yup," said smugly, popping the P. "Even the embarrassing one you're thinking about, whatever it is. I couldn't know, there were so, so many embarrassing ones-" he got cut in the middle by Jon pushing both his hands through his stomach. It didn't hurt, mind you, but it was kinda distracting. "Oi, you menace, get out of here," he called.

Jon laughed. "I can't believe you listened to it all. Why didn't you tell me?"

Gerry shrugged. "It didn't come up. Look, honestly, I think it's only fair. You know all MY tragic dark secrets. It's only fair I know yours."

Jon's eyes softened. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. A pause. And then:

"So you know about Mr. Spider?"

Gerry froze. "Yes," he said carefully. "I'm… sorry," he added, feeling lame.

"Thanks," said Jon. "I met him, you know. Leitner."

"Of course I know that, Jon," he said. "I listened to the tapes."

"Oh," said Jon, his mouth shaping the same shape. He locked eyes with Gerry, and suddenly they were both laughing so hard they couldn't breathe (well, Jon couldn't. that is, Gerry couldn't too, but he never could.)

When they finally calmed down, Gerry looked Jon dead in the eyes and asked "truth or dare?" which set them both again, unable to resist their destiny (which was sore stomachs).

"Dare," said Jon once he was able to answer.

"I dare you to go find Martin."

"Truth," said Jon.

"Joooooon," groan Gerry.

"No, no, forget it. Give me something else."

"I dare you to go find Basira."

"Gerry," hissed, "are you trying to kill me? What would I even say to her if I found her? 'Hi, yeah, what's up, I just wanted to find you for a truth or dare game. Oh? With whom am I playing? Huh it's a funny thing actually-"

"Okay, okay, you proved your point, nerd," sighed.

Jon let himself fall backwards, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "They already think I'm a monster, Gerry. Even Martin can't stand me anymore. I don't need to give them more reasons not to trust me."

Gerry hummed. He was silent for a bit. "You know I trust you, right?" he asked. "And not just because you're the only person who can see me."

"Thank you, Gerry," whispered Jon. He said it a lot. Sometimes he felt so bad for thinking that, but the truth was he was glad that Gerry got stuck as a ghost once Jon burned his page. He knew he had no right. He knew it was selfish at best and downright cruel at worst, to enjoy something that was obviously a misfortune to Gerry. But he felt so lonely those days, and the thought of doing it alone, without the only friend he still had left, was agonizing. He hoped that Gerry would've forgiven him, if he knew what sorts of thoughts run in his head when Gerry isn't looking. He hoped Gerry knew he didn't do it on purpose. But if he somehow found a way to help Gerry move on, now… he wasn't sure what he'd do. Whether he'd tell Gerry or not. And the thought scared him. And made him feel awful. Just how desperate has he become? Gerry was his only friend in what was the hardest times in his life. And he didn't know how he could ever repay that.

"That's normally the point when you say you trust me too," said Gerry, but he smiled at him without any real teasing.

"Of course I trust you," said Jon, a little bit too earnestly. Gerry felt his eyes growing fond and soft.

"Thank you, Jon," he said. "You're a good friend. The best one I've had. Well, the only one I've had. But it still counts, right?"

It took him three tries to be able to answer, eyes wide and hands shaking. "Right," he said. "Right."

"I dare you to bring me the water battle from my desk."

"Jon, I won't be able to hold it even if I wanted to, stop being lazy and get up and get it yourself, and also, we already moved on from that game like fifteen minutes ago."

Jon looked him dead in the eyes. "I dare you to bring me my water battle."

"You're insufferable!" Gerry called. "No. you can't dare me to do shit. Now give me a city in B and let's get this party going."

Jon giggled. "Your 'didn't have friends as a child' is showing."

"Fuck off, like you were any better," he replied, but didn't seem too phased. Jon liked toying with the lines of what's okay or not okay to say to people. He liked ending up on the okay side. "What gave me away, anyway?"

"They don't normally play Country City Animal at parties," said.

"No?" Gerry raised an eyebrow. "Sounds lame. Sad for them." He only learned how to play two weeks ago, but he took a fast loving to it. Jon liked it too. He was always good with his words. Or, well, he used to be. Now it seemed very very far away though.

"Bournemouth," he said, "easy."

"Oh, right, that's where you were born, right?"

Jon nodded. "Okay, now give me an animal."

"Black panther," said Gerry.

"No, black's a color, it doesn't count."

"Oh my god you're such a cheater, of course it counts."

"Give me another for bonus points, then."

Gerry stared at him. Jon stared back. This was a challenge.

"Bengal tiger," he said at last.

"No," called Jon, "that's wrong for the same reason! In the same way color doesn't count, a place doesn't either."

"You are such a cheater," murmured Gerry. "Fine, you ass, bobcat."

"Would it have _killed_ _you_ to say a bat or a bear?!" called Jon, throwing his hands up. "I swear to god, Gerry-" but he was laughing, they both were, the sadness beaten completely. The laughter died realllll fast though, the minute the door was opened.

"Jon, I found some statements I want you to look over-" it was Basira, of course it was, who else was still looking for him these days, with Melanie not wanting anything to do with him and Martin…

Yeah, only Basira.

"Are you okay, Jon?" she asked, looking at him critically.

Jon remembered suddenly how he must look from the outside. Laying in the floor of his office, laughing like a maniac to himself. Now, _that_ was embarrassing, he thought.

"I'm quite alright, Basira," he said, with the utmost dignity. Gerry snorted beside him but he ignored him (not like he could acknowledge him right now anyway, could he?)

She didn't look convinced, and for a second he thought she might push it, but at the end her tiredness probably won out, because she just went as normal about the statement and then left.

Jon sagged in relief.

Gerry smirked at him, all trouble and schadenfreude, and who was it that said the dead are peaceful?

"Shut up," he told him, not without kindness. He folded his hands under his head.

"Are you gonna tell her about me?" asked Gerry, though Jon could not for the life of him fathom why.

"Why would I?" he asked. "She already kind of wants me dead. Why would I ever want to add more weird things for her to think I'm not human?"

"You're human enough in my eyes," shrugged. Oh, curse him, leave it to him to say things like that with the most nonchalantly possible.

"Thanks, Gerry, but I fear you might be the only one who see it that way," he sighed.

"Hey, what do you mean only one? There's also you, no?"

"Gerry."

"What?"

"You know what," he said, because he knew Gerry knows. "We had _this_ conversation at least _six_ times now, and you should know that acting like this is something you thought I agree with you on is just petty and cruel. You _know_ what I think, Gerry. Don't pretend you have forgotten."

"Jon…" sighed Gerry. He began to sit up.

Jon refused to meet his eyes.

"Hey, okay, sorry for being passive aggressive. That's fair of you to be upset about that. But can I just say something? I just want to say that in my opinion, as someone who was close to both you and Gertrud, I think you are plenty more human than she ever was. Okay?"

Jon didn't look at him. He shook, ever so slightly. "Okay," he replied, voice steady.

"Good." Said Gerry. "Good. So, um… I dare you to do a handstand."

Jon rolled his eyes, but he still said "oh, you're on." And he still dared Gerry to do one as well, and then Gerry dared Jon to knock on Martin's door and run, and then Jon actually did. And then they laughed in hysteria, because that little act brought Jon more adrenaline than facing the entire circus (well, actually, maybe not-) and then Jon dared Gerry to speak French, and then Gerry dared Jon to read aloud one of the Leitners in artifact storage and the game was kinda over, but then they broke into artifact storage anyway and Gerry showed Jon how to safely burn one of those damn books, and Jon almost forgot how fear feels.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed reading!  
> this was SO much fun to write. i sat down after struggling all yesterday with a different story, said fuck it and wrote this entire thing in three hours.  
> if you see a jon&gerry fic you have to send me it, that's the law.  
> also again, credit to "statementends" on tumblr for this galaxy brain take. 
> 
> write a comment or give me a kudus if you liked it, there's nothing that makes me happier ✨💕  
> have a nice day! 😘


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